


Meet Her Inside.

by Violet_showstopper



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Gen, Genderbending, Lady Washington is cool
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-06
Updated: 2016-04-06
Packaged: 2018-05-31 14:03:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6472930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Violet_showstopper/pseuds/Violet_showstopper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Go home, Alexander.” she says it in such a way that causes Alexander to wither back slightly. <br/>“But ma’am-” he protests in panic, grasping for any straws that would change the General's mind. <br/>“Go home.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Meet Her Inside.

“What is the meaning of this?” Alexander looks up as his general enters the scene, hopping down from her horse and scowling. “Mr. Burr, get a Medic for the general!” She commands and Burr stands and scurries off, looking for the Medic. “Yes, ma’am.” 

She leans down beside Charles Lee, ripping a cloth from her uniform and pressing it to the bullet wound in his side. 

“Lee, you will never agree with me but please believe me, these young, irresponsible men  _ do not  _ speak for me.” 

As a Medic arrives and crouches beside Charles Lee, she stands and Hamilton can almost feel the anger coming off of her in waves. 

“Hamilton!” Washington's voice pierces through the chaos like a sword, causing Alexander to flinch back slightly, but he still straightens up to look his general in the eye. 

“Ma’am!” 

“Meet me inside.”  With that, Washington turns and marches into her tent, obviously in an ill mood. 

A few people glance at him in emotions ranging from pity to anticipation, them all knowing it was never a fun time to be chewed out by the General in person. 

Alexander takes a deep breath before walking into Washington’s tent, folding his hands behind his back and standing at rapt attention. 

“Son.” Is the first word she says to him, bags under her eyes and looking more tired than angry which causes Alexander's shoulders to slump. In that moment, all he can think about his his mother.

Alexander’s soft, caring mother who loved him dearly and would risk every inch of her being to make sure her son was safe and secure.

His mother who fell ill, stroking his hair soothingly and whispering words of comfort through chest-rattling coughs. 

His mother who was dead before he was fourteen. 

“Don’t call me son.” The words come out stronger than Alexander anticipated, he had been fully expecting his voice to crack or to break down on the spot, but he just shakes his head with the phrase. 

Washington ignores him, pacing around her tent and rubbing at the bridge of her nose as if Alexander's very existence caused her to become tired.

“This war is hard enough without infighting.”   

“Lee called you out- we called his bluff…!” Alexander is defending himself at this point, even if he feels like him and John’s actions were completely just. Why couldn’t she see that? 

“You solve  _ nothing!”  _ She snaps out at him, slamming a hand down on her desk in frustration and causing a stack of papers to slide off and flutter to the floor at Alexander's feet. “You aggravate our allies through the south!” 

Alexander draws in a sharp breath at this, for once grasping at something to say and running with it. After all, who wouldn’t be frayed out by the General yelling at them.

“You’re absolutely right. John should’ve shot him in the mouth- that would’ve shut ‘em up.” He says while stepping back, crossing his arms in blatant disrespect. 

“Son-” Washington finally turns to face him, looking partly surprised and partly infuriated and Alexander cuts her off.

“-I’m notcha son.” His body shows off his anger this time, as he steps forwards and places his hands on top of the desk with a lot more force than necessary. 

“Alexander, watch your tone. I am not a  _ maiden _ in need of  _ defending _ I am grown-” 

He raises his voice above hers. “Charles Lee, Thomas Conway, these men take your name and they rake it through the  _ mud.”  _ Alexander glares, turning his hand into a clawed grip and dragging it through the air in front of  him, making it appear as if he was dragging something through the air.  

Washington has the gall to  _ laugh  _ at this, a dry, humorless laugh that does nothing but enrage Alexander further. 

“Well, my name’s been through a lot. I can take it.” 

He wrinkles his nose, feeling himself tense up. He had known Washington had been through a lot to get to her point as general, coming up from nothing but a farmers wife. 

But Alexander had been through a lot as well, and he was nowhere near being as high up as she was. 

“Ma’am, with all due respect, I don’t have your name. I don’t have your title, I don’t have your land but if you-

“-No.” She says, exasperated. 

“But if you gave me a command of a battalion, a group  of men to lead I could fly above my station after the war!” He insists, raising his voice. 

“Or you’re more likely to die- and we need you alive!”

“I am more then willing to die-”

“-Your wife needs you alive, son, I need you alive!” 

“Call me son  _ one more time _ !”

Alexander steps forwards at this, getting into Washingtons face and jabbing a finger to her stomach. 

Then he freezes. 

Everything freezes, really. 

The buzz from outside the tent seems to go quiet, from the idle chatter of the soldiers to the winter breeze. It all seems to go still in the sickening quiet of Washington's stare. 

“Go home, Alexander.” she says it in such a way that causes Alexander to wither back slightly.    
“But ma’am-” he protests in panic, grasping for any straws that would change the General's mind.    
“Go home.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry I didn't say much abt Lady Washingtons apperance. I kinda just decided to leave it up to the reader.   
> I write a lot of stuff from the Hamilton prompts wow @myself can you maybe chill


End file.
